


A Tendency to Tease

by sanguinity



Series: His Majesty's Kraken [2]
Category: Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kraken, Flirting, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguinity/pseuds/sanguinity
Summary: During the finest summer in human memory, Bush and Hornblower strive to keep Hotspur amused.





	A Tendency to Tease

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ColebaltBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColebaltBlue/gifts).



_Hotspur_ was a high-spirited ship, and the tedium of blockade duty tended to rub against her sensibilities. She loved that first spring when fog hugged the coast and she could sneak in under the shore batteries to tweak Frog noses, but during the long, sundrenched days of the most beautiful summer in memory, she chafed for amusement. Hornblower devised no end of useful and salutary occupation for her, but she was not of the same methodical bent as her captain, and when finally released from the day's work she had a tendency to tease, harassing the men at their labours.

"You spoil her, Mr Bush," Hornblower said, as _Hotspur_ cradled close a triple-nested barrel of pilchards that Bush had baited her with. She worried at a barrel-stave, delicately trying to work it free of its mates. Bush grinned to watch her: she could have crushed the contraption with hardly a thought, but was taking too much delight in unwrapping her present.

"I thought to keep her from distracting the men, sir." Privately, Bush thought she deserved the reward: it had been a long and exacting day spent correcting their charts, and she had behaved tolerably well, criss-crossing the water at close intervals, patiently holding position when asked, and hardly bucking at all during Prowse's successive sightings of the surrounding headlands. It was exactly the kind of repetitious and methodical work that _Hotspur_ hated most, and her explosion of relief when Hornblower had finally declared them done for the day had been palpable.

"Hrm, yes," Hornblower said, trying for a disapproving frown. But _Hotspur's_ deck wriggled with delight as the outermost barrel suddenly collapsed into its component parts, and Hornblower's affection for his ship won out, his mouth twitching into a smile before he remembered himself.

Bush didn't bother stifling his own smile: his ship was happy, and so was his captain. There on the blue sea with the afternoon sun shining down on them, his own heart was well-satisfied.

The second barrel disassembled more quickly than the first, _Hotspur_ having now acquired the knack of it, but her patience had reached its end: she neatly stove in the end of the innermost barrel to get at the treat inside. Silver spilled in the sunlight, and the water churned as _Hotspur's_ tentacles darted to keep the treasure from being lost. 

Eventually the tumult of motion quieted and her movements became more circumspect, her arms almost entirely submerged, only an occasional loop breaching the surface. Hornblower frowned. "Can you make out—?" he began, but then an arm lifted free of the surface, and both men could see what she had been doing: she had fashioned a chain of the barrel-hoops, catching each one through the next. She played with it for a few moments, rattling the length, snapping it taut, before piling the impromptu chain neatly at Bush's feet.

Bush beamed with unexpected pleasure; it was usual for her to offer her gifts to Hornblower. "Thank you, beautiful," he said, reaching out. The tentacle nudged close, tracing his arm, then nudging around his face and neck. Bush turned into its caress.

When he opened his eyes again, Hornblower was openly grinning at him. Hornblower cleared his throat and tapped the side of his own neck. "You'll have a mark," he said, and laughed at Bush's sudden flush. "She's possessive like that," he added, as if all the ship hadn't seen Hornblower emerging from his cabin with sucker marks visible at the edges of his uniform.

Bush touched his neck, remembering the quick prickle of sensation as a sucker had briefly bit in. The skin tingled under his fingers, but he couldn't say if it was from _Hotspur's_ caress or his own blush. Bush dropped his hand lest he call undue attention to the mark, although it loomed large and vivid in his mind's eye. 

Hornblower continued to grin as he turned away to the horizon. He rocked once on his toes, apparently unconcerned about _Hotspur_ distributing her favours among his officers. And Bush stood beside him, watching the self-same horizon, his stomach warm with confused pleasure.


End file.
